


One Step Closer

by bioticbooty



Series: Crosshairs 'Verse [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Falling In Love, crosshairs 'verse, pre-shenko angst fluff, pre-shenko fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 22:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4853711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticbooty/pseuds/bioticbooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the Crosshairs 'Verse, this is a companion piece to chapter twenty-four. Well, more like an epilogue. It didn't quite fit in the story so here it is here instead!</p><p>Ultimately Haliat had won, just not in the way he’d believed. The worst part was she’d let him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Step Closer

Olivia rotated onto her back, bringing the tear-soaked pillow with her. The tears had long since dried away, and she’d long since changed into her pajamas, but sleep eluded her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Kelila’s last message all over again. And if that wonderful walk down memory lane wasn’t painting itself across her eyelids, it was Haliat’s face. Mocking her, sneering at her. Laughing at all the misery he’d inflicted upon her.

He’d inflicted more than his fair share, more than any one person should be to inflict on another.

She shifted her grip on the pillow, sliding it down from under her chin and clutched it to her chest. It was maybe a little foolish, she thought, that after all these hours she was still holding onto the damn thing - but she couldn’t bring herself to let go. Admitting how lonely she really was; not necessarily for romantic love, just… love in general. So many years spent shutting people out and it took a deranged mercenary hell-bent on vengeance showing her the last moments of the last person who’d dared to love her for Olivia to realize that.

Ultimately Haliat had won, just not in the way he’d believed. The worst part was she’d let him.

That one little fact _burned_ inside of her life a hot cinder; hot tears slid down her cheeks as anger suddenly replaced grief. Anger at her _self_ for shutting down and walling up, for not living. For failing in her promise to Kelila so spectacularly. God, she felt like such an idiot. How could she have been so stupid? That was exactly what all terrorists wanted: demoralization, for people to give up and lose hope. And whether or not Haliat considered himself as such, regardless of what ‘collecting people for slaves’ meant to him, he was absolutely a terrorist. Attacking outer colonies just to prove they weren’t safe, that the arm of the Alliance had over-extended its reach.

While she’d saved the day on Elysium, she hadn’t saved herself.

Olivia had never _admitted_ that to herself, to _allow_ herself to see that. Serving in the Alliance to protect people, to prevent families from being ripped apart and destroyed, yet she hadn’t ever extended that same courtesy to herself when it mattered. And she’d even given lip service to the _words_ at a _grave_ for god’s sake.

Olivia hurled her pillow across the room with a cry then buried her face in her hands. More angry tears spilling down her cheeks in a near uncontrollable onslaught. Her emotions a flood finally bursting through a broken dam. It wasn’t until she wiped at her eyes that she became aware her omni-tool had activated somehow. Probably a stray touch from one of her fingers over the interface when she’d thrown the pillow and collapsed on herself.

She brushed the tears away so she could see her ‘tool to shut it down - and froze.

Whether by providence or chance, she found herself looking at the picture she’d taken of Kaidan on Therum.

She removed her hand from the shut off and brought the image closer, zooming in on his face. The orange light of the omni-tool bathing her in an artificial warmth she desperately needed.

Or maybe that was the picture, too.

She couldn’t entirely articulate what had made her take the picture that day, other than they’d been at it over programming techniques, each favoring a different method. Kaidan had leaned towards a more methodical and subtle approach whereas she was looking for something more in line with a hammer. They’d inevitably settled somewhere in the middle; and while she’d grumbled about the process, she had secretly loved going head to head with someone like that over code. It’d been frustrating and she’d wanted to thump him a few times when he dug his toes in, but it had also been thrilling. After that, Kaidan had started including fab unit materials on his gear-up checklist with a pointed look in her direction. Going so far as to slide an extra package her way for a survey mission. A _survey_ mission. On a backwater planet with absolutely nothing going on, he’d slid a spare package of fab unit materials across the bench towards her. Just waltzed up, cool as a cucumber and, without saying anything, slid the damn thing at her. And the _expression_ on his face afterward.

Oh yeah, she thought. It was definitely the picture. Or rather, the _subject_ of the picture.

Olivia could no longer deny that there wasn’t something more than mere friendship on her end. Not anymore, not after this mission. Not after he’d held her hand and been there for her, not after he’d hugged her after a nightmare. Not passing any judgment on her despite learning some of the more deeply intimate aspects of her life, witnessing the horrific murder of her dead lover. Not after he’d refused her debrief because she didn’t owe him anything, and he didn’t need to know anything to trust her. But if she wanted to offer him anything on her own terms… he’d be there.

Olivia raised her ‘tool higher, bringing the picture closer as if that would summon the man himself. A small part of her foolishly wished it would.

She bit her lip and closed the picture. Leaving her omni-tool on and her finger hovering over the messaging button. Would he even be awake? Would he _want_ her to disturb him this late? Because despite retiring to her quarters early, it was well past midnight and she knew for a fact he had the mid-morning shift.

She believed his offer was genuine. To hear her out as a friend and not a colleague.

But… she was also vulnerable right now. Really vulnerable and she wanted to be held and that… that would be overstepping her bounds. She didn’t know his feelings, and didn’t want to make any assumptions, regardless of any potential positive indicators there might be.

She lowered her hand. It would be best if she worked through her feelings, too. Sort out exactly _what_ she felt for him aside from ‘something more’. What she wanted to do about it, if anything. And how it all fit into their mission. Because even if she was willing to break frat regs, she _wouldn_ _’t_ break them if it at all threatened the mission or the crew. That meant not jumping into his arms late at night on an impulse. It meant a more measured approach. She would do best to take a few days and make sure her feelings in the present weren’t the result of him simply being there while her past was laid bare. To make sure it wasn’t just battlefield bonding, though she suspected it wasn’t. She suspected even if he hadn’t been there, she’d have wanted to talk to him about it. That she’d have wanted to talk to him as friends, not marines.

Olivia kept her ‘tool on, returning to the picture of him from Therum as she settled back into her bed; and she fell asleep that way, with his face turned towards her as if he were keeping watch on her. This time, sleep came easily.

 


End file.
